Breathing Death
by Suzume Tori
Summary: Heero, searching for Duo after the war, finally finds him - almost dead. It's up to Heero to nurse him back... but the temptation grows to... um, it's a 1X2/2X1 ficcie, so if shonen ai or yaoi offends you, I'm sorry, but I don't think you'll like this.
1. Rattling Lungs To Better Speak

Now, HERE's a sight to see. Me writing about someone other than Kaworu and Shinji *collective gasps* Okays, this is a 1x2 fic, and I haven't decided what other couples there are going to be…. But, er, forgive me if it seems a little AU, and people act OOC. Bear in mind that I have never EVEN SEEN THE SERIES!!! *runs off, giggling now that the secret's out* okays, I'm over it. So dun kill me, please… Oh, and many gomens to Celeste, because I know that she believes Heero belongs with Relena. I'm sure she's right, because hey, I've never even seen the series and am a shonen-ai/yaoi freak myself and would turn even the most obviously straight characters gay if I could. (wow, that was in one 'breath'.) Okay, standard disclaimerz apply; I don't own the series or characters (most of them, anyway) because then I'd probably create an entire 3 extra series dedicated to m/m love between the pilots. Ha. Ha ha. So anyway, here goes…  
  
* * *  
Violet eyes studied the shimmering lake that slept before him. Stretching out his slender legs, the pilot enjoyed the silence, which was only added to by the rustling murmurs of pine branches in the wind. Sunbeams found his pale face, and ran along his back, a duller orange-yellow now that mid-day had seen its end.   
  
Duo flipped his braid out from in front of him and stood up at last, loosening up with the help of warmth still captured in his body. He donned his footgear and ambled slowly in no particular direction at all. Struggling, he battled darker thoughts that preyed upon his mind, resisting them as best he could – thoughts of pain, of war, of death, of sadness.   
  
Streaked with all shades of grey, rather like a charcoal rendering trying to pass as a real sky, the horizons had now deepened, and opened up to bleed upon all surfaces beneath them. Duo's pace quickened slightly, but with no real purpose; he had nowhere to go.  
  
The war was over. The colonies and earth were at peace, so the adolescent had returned to the place of his birth. Now, he was in America, the land that sired him, and the soft earth beneath his shoes felt nothing like home, but just a piece of this surreal, tranquil place that didn't seem to quite be a true existence at all. Opening his mouth, he let in the bursts of cloud-flesh, alien on his tongue.  
  
Alien. He remembered mothers on the street, pulling curious children away from the pilot who had been part of the war. It didn't matter what side he was on; he was against peace, and so, to some, was still a demon upon their roads.   
  
Alien. It was a word that created a tangy bitterness on his tongue, ruining the fresh taste of true rain. Duo spat out everything in his mouth, still attempting to forget the memories that refused to be forgotten. His digits ran to trace along his belt, pleased with the lack of gun, yet another sign that the war was over.  
  
Not having slept in a few days, the brunette pitched his makeshift tent under a colossal tree. Struggling, he managed to assemble the rain fly, and stumbled rather sleepily inside, unrolling his sleeping mat and bag, clambering inside, and zipping everything up.  
  
The sky continued to mourn as the now ex-pilot slept.  
  
* * *  
  
Heero crashed noisily through the brush, hacking mercilessly away at any plant that dared get in his way. Information sources had told him that Duo had come to this area, perhaps in search of solitude (which, if Heero had his way, he wouldn't get) or perhaps just for the sentimentality of it all – his 'home' on Earth. In the distance, the sky howled at the earth, deep, disapproving rumbles of thunder filling the air. Constant irritations, like weather, were strange matters to Heero, but the Perfect Soldier endured.  
  
"Duo? Duo? DUO!!! SHINAGAMI?" Occasionally, he would let free such cries, and there would be an empty, hollow echo returned. Nothing more. Not that he had expected to find Duo in the first year, of course, but it had been three years since the end of the war. And that was plenty of 'alone' time, Heero estimated. So he stumbled through the unyielding brambles and called the name of that which he sought, but to no avail.  
  
No matter. Could he not endure? Was he not the Perfect Soldier?  
  
Within his body that had been labeled such, a suppressed soul sobbed, and began to give out.  
* * *  
  
Shivers tore pitilessly at the God of Death. Ironic, he mused, they're trying to kill me.  
  
It would have been a lot funnier if it wasn't working. Duo pulled a damp blanket over himself, and the cold would still not relent, sinking teeth of ice into his tortured body. Daylight stole without leave into his tent, a muted shadow of even yesterday's. Pathetic. Duo wondered vaguely why he was so tired, but the temperature would leave him no rest to sleep. Aside from irritation, he took no notice of his breath – difficult, and how it rattled each lung.   
  
As he was slipping, at last, into a sort of sedated, almost-sleep, he heard the voice of an old comerade. Shame, he thought, I don't have the strength nor the voice to answer.  
  
Somehow, the part of him that saw what was happening sighed, I never liked the thought of dying alone.  
* * *  
  
Heero paused, pulling his coat tighter about his frigid form, and listened. He heard general scurrying and scuttling, but no return call. As he turned to go back, to find another rout, he halted yet again.  
  
Because he could hear the breathing  
  
At first, he had thought it some strange insect, perhaps like a cicada (he had discovered them upon trees on previous searches) and… well, not like it at all. Because, as he realized, it was human. There was a frightening urgency in it, as if each breath was a triumph, but harder than the last. And breath, of course, didn't come like that. It came easily, did it not? Except –   
  
Heero didn't finish that thought as he ran towards the noise.  
* * *  
  



	2. And I shall hear them

This one is all for Corinna. No one else has been able to get me off my butt and working – that was the sweetest feedback! This one's 4 u, tho u know that already… ^_^ May you have an eternity of happy endings ^_^   
  
Mercilessly, he tore at the zipper of the tent, fumbling in his urgency. Even if it was not Shinagami – well – someone was in trouble. Normally, that wouldn't bother him. Receding into yourself, indifferent in the very face of illness or death, was easy. But the possibility – the very thought that Duo's lungs MIGHT be struggling, that Duo could be – Shuddering for perhaps the first time in his life, Heero cut off that thought, sharp and frightened-   
  
/I… I am frightened? / Thoughts spun in a blur around his aching head. Whatever he or anyone felt or thought, he needed to focus on his one goal, and that was currently reaching the source of the noise. Finishing at last, he had wrestled the zippers of the screen and then the door down, tumbling headfirst into the tent.   
  
Glazed lavender eyes, clouded and unseeing, rested inches from his face.   
  
/DUO!!!/ The thought formed, dripping horror, before he forced it from his throat in a desperate hiss.   
  
"DUO!"   
  
No response.   
  
"DUO! SHINAGAMI, DAMMIT, ANSWER ME, OR I'LL KILL YOU! DUO!" The empty threats rolled off the indifferent form, and the distances between each precious, rattling breath grew.   
  
Heero crumpled, angry now, a more familiar emotion. It was only then that the chill became more pronounced, and he realized, if nothing else, Duo had to be warm. Struggling to free his pilot from a tangle of damp sheets, Heero grunted softly, and placed his own jacket around Duo's frigid form. In doing so, his hands brushed Duo's clothes –   
  
/Soaked. He'll never dry off this way. /   
  
Grimly, Heero began to take the shirt, plastered to Duo's ruined form, off. He forced his own breathing to remain even, and his movements mechanical, as he reached for Duo's shorts.   
  
Five minutes later, Duo was dressed in spandex and a thin jacket.   
  
Heero wore a birthday suit, but wouldn't shiver or give in to the frostbite that had claimed his toes and fingers already.   
  
/If it gets too bad, I'll chop them off/ he resolved, unflinching.   
  
Softly, oh-so-gently, he lay next to Duo, pulling a wet blanket over up to his waist for decency. Sharp fingers of a cold so concentrated and unbearable forced him to curl smaller, as if trying to fold into himself. Finally, he wrapped a bluing arm around his friend, eagerly stealing all the warmth his starved body could find. He tangled all his limbs around this source of heat, brushing icicles from Duo's soft lashes.   
  
Larger, a still-rattling breath was taken, and the braided pilot responded at last.   
  
"H… Heero?" The film on his eyes had lessened, and at last he saw the adolescent cradled against his body.   
  
"You need to get out of here. Can you walk?" Began Heero, brisk as ever.   
  
"You're… MY GOD, YOU'RE NAK-" Coughing, Duo spattered blood onto his damp pillowcase, splotchy red-brown stains showing that this, perhaps, wasn't the first time.   
  
"Calm down. You can't walk, then. I'll carry you. What equipment do you need?" Heero placed warm, surprisingly soft hands onto Duo's back, almost rising before ducking down to wrap the bedspread back around his lower body, then replacing the calming hands upon his colleague's spine.   
  
Leaning into him unconsciously, Duo thought, breathing evening out to a steady rattle.   
  
"Nothing. I have nothing here of value. Not that can be saved. You don't have to take me, but if you must, please select another outfit." Duo mumbled, almost incoherent.   
  
"As pleases you. I shall carry you, and wear your old clothes. I can stand the cold of dampness longer."   
  
Beginning to try and protest, Duo let loose another splattering of blood. The unpleasant crimson liquid dripped accusingly from his mouth as he heaved grueling breaths.   
  
"Exactly." Heero gathered their equipment, perfectly calm and seeming completely ignorant of the frostbite that had climbed to his arms.   
  
Mouth an indifferent line, he hoisted Duo over his left shoulder, causing him to have another fit of coughing, till Heero resigned himself to carrying Duo princess-style, perhaps hurting his dignity slightly. Exhaustion was stronger than the reality of the waking world for Duo, and he slipped into half sleep.   
  
Thus, Heero reasoned, he would never feel the press of lips against him anyway…   
  
^_^ ^_^ ^_^ ^_^


	3. but will you heed my pleas

Okays…. This one is also for Corinna-sama, to whom I owe all inspiration. I would have stopped writing the entire fanfic (shhh!) if she hadn't written to me.   
  
The God of Death was dying.   
  
Even Heero, almost oblivious to emotions, felt a tug at his consciousness, and dashed it away. There was nothing he could do but keep walking, carrying his burden carefully in two damp arms.   
  
Duo shivered, causing a sharp flinch in Heero, who had somehow let an inner shield drop. What could Heero give to Duo, anyway? Nothing.   
  
His shoes?… There was an odd, new mentality to Heero. Though it wasn't logical, somewhere, he hoped shoes would save Duo.   
  
Shoes. He was relying on shoes.   
  
Carefully, he set Duo down in the slight shelter of a taller tree, tearing off his shoes with an alien frantic gesture. Placing them on Duo's blue-white feet was difficult, but Heero managed.   
  
/because I can do anything for you. I WILL do anything for you, precious Shinagami/   
  
Perhaps it was the cold, perhaps the shock of finding the one he had lost, but Heero did not dwell on this thought as he once would have.   
  
Continuing down the path to his borrowed car, Heero felt strange, prickling sensations in the soles of his feet. Looking down told him that the skin was being worn off, too used to the comfort of shoes.   
  
/Wufei would call me weak/ mused Heero, resuming his previous pace, tracking blood onto the unforgiving forest floor. Pebbles took their chance to embed themselves in the opened flesh, which he took without flinching.   
  
Four hours later, Heero slumped gratefully into the passenger's seat, fingering the tacky faux tiger-fur coverings.   
  
"Duo-kun," Breathed the once-pilot of wing-zero, "Wake up. Wake up now."   
  
Gently, Heero shook Duo's cold shoulders.   
  
So cold… Heero glanced back at his own fingers, now wandering across the dashboard, unfeeling and completely colorless.   
  
It was difficult to rev up the engine, and Heero wasn't surprised that the truck sputtered uselessly. Everything was to cold, living or machine, to work.   
  
Seeing as Duo wasn't waking, Heero quietly changed from the frigid, damp clothes to a spare set of spandex, discarding the usual guns from the heap. Ice still tore mercilessly at his own form, and he wrestled desparately with it, attempting not to feel, but ending up curling in an unbearably frigid ball. Shivering, he sidled up to Duo, and merely felt colder still wherever they ceased to touch.   
  
"Wake up." Pleading, Heero pressed a firm hand onto Duo, as if willing his eyes,   
  
/those beautiful, long-lashed eyes/   
  
-to open.   
  
Which, of course, they didn't. Howling with dissatisfaction, Heero tried to do the first thing that came to his mind (He HAD to stop that sort of thing. He was supposed to be an incredible strategist, and not all of it due to the Wing Zero.)   
  
Pressing palms harshly on Duo's back, Heero dug his thumbs into pressure-points, trying to massage and warm the body before him.   
  
/if only it weren't so _COLD_/   
  
Heero's body trembled, then, perhaps in fear for Duo and perhaps merely because the cold was so difficult to withstand, and he was surrounded by it, choked by it as it bit into his chest.   
  
Slowly, Duo's eyes emerged from behind the thin shield of eyelids to stare in wonder at the world.   
  
"Heero?"   
  
"Duo! It's good you're awake. I'm not so good with comatose, you know." Heero managed his first wry, almost-smile.   
  
"I… I'm cold. I'm cold, Heero…" Gasped Duo sharply, realizing it, and eyes all the wider.   
  
"I know." Heero managed an almost-soothing voice, straining it from somewhere within his library of deadpan, monotone clichés and favorite phrases.   
  
"So… so very cold…" Duo drew a trembling, rasping breath of wintry air.   
  
"I know." It was quickly getting old, this phrase.   
  
(AN: AKKK!!!! I'm talking like Yoda, curse it! Doodlebugs to it all![can you believe that 'doodlebugs' is somehow already in the spell-check dictionary? I thought that was MY word…])   
  
Heero slid back into the driver's seat, pulling the corpse-like Duo into his lap, curling arms around him in an attempt to shut out the frosty atmosphere.   
  
Disparingly, Heero turned the key to the ignition, praying silently.   
  
God, high upon a cloud in heaven, must have found the time to listen, then, because the Perfect Soldier _did_*not*_ pray. The Perfect Soldier was almost considered a god himself, be it blasphemous or not. The Perfect Soldier had never needed help. But when, at long last, he prayed for something as seemly trivial as the engine to start, God felt the cold trapped in his mortal body, and the desparation with which Heero fought the odds for the boy in his lap. And thusly, He took pity on the creature.   
  
Down onto America, where the rain was falling softly onto a car roof, an engine gave in to the miracle and started easily.   
  
"You can sleep, now, Duo. We're going home."


	4. For I bear a soul so tortured within...

AN:  
  
To Corinna, of course. ^_^ Who else? Corinna has given me the most support of all!!!! Say it with me: _CORINNA_RULES_!!!!  
  
Okays, minna, if you haven't figured it out yet / and / equals Heero's thoughts. Example: If Heero wanted icecream, I could just say that, or I could go  
  
/I want icecream/   
  
if Duo wakes up (I haven't decided what I'm doing just yet ;-) More fun that way) then his thoughts are the same, only I'm gonna make them (at least for now) double slashes // and // – if Duo wants icecrem, I could just say that, or I could go…  
  
//ICECREAM!!!! GIVE ME ICECREAM!!! PLEASE, PLEASE?//  
______________________________-  
  
Once they pulled up into a driveway, Heero found himself waking Duo once more, which was all the more difficult when half of his limbs told him it was time to sleep as well. The heater (thank God – Heero was beginning to appreciate this deity more and more) had worked, though it had come out cold at first, and now it was a healthy, warm thirty-seven degrees Fahrenheit in the car. Which, all things considered, was quite comfortable – much preferable to forty degrees below zero.  
  
Giving up on Duo lest he fall asleep in the comfort of his position, Heero finally gathered Duo up like a porcelien doll, with such CARE that it startled even him.  
  
Heero trudged dully through hard, solidified 'slush'. Wiping his feet on the doormat, he turned sideways so as to fit in the doorway, then marched right on in.  
  
No, it was not his home. But it was deserted (he double-checked) and it was seventy degrees – regular tropics – and had everything needed. There was a stove, running water – it was a cabin, obviously deserted for a while (the food was disgusting in its rotting state– perhaps not EVERYTHING needed, but you can't be too picky) and…  
  
Well.  
  
One bed.  
  
Feathery, this one was soft and supple with the down contained within it. If you were to curl up on it, it would shape deliciously to your form as you sank into it. Slightly musty furs topped it – even the sheets were fur. Everything was… natural. It was easy to tell that the walls were wooden logs, and the floor-stones packed together weren't the most beautiful modern tiling, but the atmosphere had a feeling that normal houses and apartments couldn't ever get. It felt… raw. It felt open and like it could only tell truth, could it speak, though safe. And strangely and blessedly warm.  
  
Heero placed his -   
  
/koi/  
  
- friend into this bed, burying him deep in the fur and tucking the edges down like some would do for small children. All the motions – rather like making a bed – felt alien to him. Even though he could do them, they felt – different. As different as things had been lately – sliding in and out of these unexplored parts of his mind, where emotions and, apparently, these caring movements lay.  
  
Delicious.  
  
They felt delicious, like smooth ice cream on your tongue (He shuddered inwardly – /ice cream, at a time like this? That is the sort of thought only Duo would think…/)  
  
It was equally delicious to slide in, after some debate, under the almost uncomfortably warm hides to lay next to Duo. The narrow bed forced his body to press up against Duo's, but his comrade appeared oblivious, save a soft smile in his exhausted sleep.  
  
/If only that was for me. If only…/ Heero curled fingers that were already beginning to warm into Duo's thick, disheveled braid.  
  
/This/ he realized thoughtfully, as though an observer, /is a new emotion. /  
  
And it was, too.  
  
Longing.  
  
Small tendrils of Shinagami's hair curled around Heero's fingers, as though in understanding, and a gasp tore from some warming place inside him. Pressing closer  
  
/for warmth, of course/  
  
the slightly bewildered ex-pilot of Wing-Zero watched his traitorous arms wrap tightly around his charge despite the fact that part of his mind – the usual part – was commanding them to stop. This section of him screamed in horror as legs wrapped around legs, and was shattering the edges of his mind with desparation as Heero's face moved gradually closer to the sleeping boy's.  
  
And stopped.   
  
Abrubtly.  
  
Flinching back, he recoiled in disgust, edging to the side of the bed and tumbling out in his haste.  
  
/That must not happen again./  
  
And he ran.  
  
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO  
  
Shaken, the sweet pilot of Deathscythe managed a difficult breath.   
  
Perhaps he was in a different situation than he thought. Heero had seemed… almost CONCERNED about him. Almost. So he had pretended to sleep – that would seem promising, right? And he had kept his eyes closed and breathing as he was tucked into the bliss of a warm, single bed. However, you could not imagine how hard it was to retain such a relaxed, 'sleeping' state when he felt his cold-hearted savior climb in.  
  
And he could recall the electricity as bodies touched bodies. And knew that it wasn't just accidental brushings in a too-small space; he had seen that touch before. When a couple sat out too late on one of the benches in the halls of the colonies, hands going in all the forbidden places, pausing to emit starving noises. But that was… Not the way Heero touched. Heero's contact was limited to headlocks, breaking your arm, and… Well.  
  
Which is why the slightly elated, breathless face staring out into the colder room from beneath a haven of sheets held such complete confusion.  
  
//Heero? What's wrong? You have _changed_, haven't you? Why did you come to save me, anyway? I'm not fighting with you anymore. Losing me will not affect a war that doesn't exist.  
  
Did you feel that, though?  
  
The rush that I felt? Adrenaline? Fire? Electricity? Hunger? What is it?   
  
… you must have felt it. You created it – you reached for me with it, and it became a part of us.  
  
Us. An interesting pronoun – it implies being paired.  
  
But… surely -//  
  
That thought, wherever it was going, was terminated as Duo receded back into the covers. He could hear thuds as snow was shaken from shoes, and zippers being undone on jackets and boots, then the brush of spandex against spandex that always came when Heero moved.   
  
He had returned. Heero could never leave Duo in such a state – once he had regained control, he had no choice but to go back.  
  
"Duo." Heero kicked the back-board of the bed, trying to wake the boy he didn't know had never slept.  
  
Duo's eyes remained closed, and Heero cursed himself as he admired them – the shadows created by the lashes spreading seductively down the hollowed bridge where the cheekbone began.  
  
The marveling adolescent was considering leaving once more when he finally grasped control.  
  
"Damn you, Duo. Damn you for being so goddammed beautiful." Spitfire leered from the corners of his trademark glare, but if you were to look closely, you would see a sort of untouchable anguish, as well, and perhaps not anger at all but the hollow burn from being forced away from love.  
  
Embittered from being a soulless creature for all those years, he never thought that perhaps.  
  
Perhaps.  
  
Perhaps it was okay to touch – to long, to haunt your way into someone's life and sweep them off their clumsy feet.  
  
But it would have been all to easy. And easy was not how Heero worked. Tortured, he forced himself to remain vigil, trying to regain the willpower he had once possessed. Discipline was a smack in the face as he watched a touchable, kissable boy ride through the lands of sleep, soft lips puckered out into a tempting question. And still, he rested at the foot of the bed, never touching, only watching as every cell begged to be set free, if only a brush against Duo's skin… He would never notice, anyway.  
  
Something prideful within him, eager to tear him apart in order to 'make him stronger', told him that was not an option. So he hovered despairingly near, so close… Ever so often, his fingertips would near the sleeping face of Shinagami, and he would pull them back in a mechanical, commanding motion.  
  
Emotion was so painful. And useless. To him, it was just one more flaw to filter from your mind. But these yearnings would not be filtered, or even temporarily ignored. Lurking near, pulling back again, battling and warring, Heero danced wearily back and forth, never allowing himself to sleep, or to touch… Look, don't touch.  
  
Life is so full of cruelties. Pride is perhaps the cruelest of all. Even the most coldhearted or humble would agree, if they saw the eerie face, bleak eyes shadowed down and worn weak from a new sort of desire and lack of sleep.  
  
However, people will slip, and Heero, though more than the average person, was equally capable, and slip he did. By the third morning, having force fed Duo with a fork, never actually coming in contact with him, he collapsed into a mound created from the power of need.  
  
Fell onto Duo.  
  
And slept.  
  
And all was at peace.  
  
At peace.  
  
Peace.  
  
Sleep. 


	5. Am I falling to temptation?

Heero woke when the fork clattered to the floor into the bowl he had abandoned there. Upon inspection, the soup within it proved room temperature - how long had he been -  
  
The longer-haired pilot stirred in his sleep, reaching out for whatever it is you seek while dreaming. His hands curled around Heero's waist and latched together. Heero was dragged by the torso back into the mound of fur, pressed close against Duo.  
  
Worn down, he submitted. Why not? What was so wrong with it, anyway? He was so tired.. To tired to fight. the room hazed over threateningly and he forced himself to concentrate, instead of sleeping.  
  
He barely registered the eyelashes fluttering against his neck, turning only when Duo's long mouth smiled against his bare back.  
  
"Good morning," Was all Duo said, not what was expected -  
  
/why not "what are you doing here?" "why are you in this bed? With me?"/ Heero turned around to face Duo, unsure of what exactly to say.  
  
"Thank you!" Duo's smile widened, and his face bubbled over with charm.  
  
"Hn." Replied Heero  
  
Duo somehow mistook this as a signal - he immediately latched tighter onto Heero, burying his face into the hollow between Heero's neck and collarbone.  
  
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Beaming, Duo sat up at last, pulling Heero with him.  
  
"Mmhmm."  
  
"I feel so much better n-" Duo's eyes widened as he was cut off by a cough, deep within his lungs emerging out in a bark. He felt liquid enter his mouth, and he spat it into the cold soup.  
  
"Phlem!" He supplied cheerfully as Heero attempted to back off  
  
"No. blood, then?" Heero asked, peering into the ruined soup - no traces of red.. His stomach recoiled at the sight of what Duo had spat out, instead, and he was forced to turn back to his comrade.  
  
"I'm so happy! You care!" Giggling, Duo launched his uncharacteristically surprised friend back into the bed 'sheets'.  
  
Heero felt the warmth of the boy above him, then, for the first time. The boy was straddled across Heero's midsection, seemingly oblivious to the effect this had.  
  
"Thank you! Thank you!" Duo bent over to nuzzle Heero's face -  
  
-then veered to quickly to allow his mouth to brush Heero's.  
  
If Heero had been surprised before. He was reaching new levels of it now. He tensed beneath Duo's attention.  
  
If Duo noticed Heero's nervousness, he didn't account for it. Pressing down gently upon his savior's mouth, he forced the trembling soldier to yield, relaxing, if not kissing back.  
  
Against Heero's mouth, Duo smiled. 


End file.
